


Talk To Me

by gimmefire



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Dirty Talk, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 20:59:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6536080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gimmefire/pseuds/gimmefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt gets a phonecall in the middle of the night. <i>"Tell me what you're gonna do to me next time we see each other."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Post-COTA 2016, amidst [nonsense rumours](https://twitter.com/matoxley/status/719337554420457472) of Cal's impending retirement following a bad run of races. Long-distance relationships are not fun. Unbeta'd. Shout-out to the few people who give a shit about this pairing!!

"Wh...Hello?" Matt presses his finger and thumb over his eyes, his other hand holding his phone to his ear. It's pitch black in his Northamptonshire hotel room and he's been awake for around seven seconds.

"Are you busy?," Cal asks without any audible self-awareness.

Matt tries to make an incredulous noise, but his vocal chords aren't awake enough to manage more than a rough squeak. "Do you even know what the time is?" Christ, Matt himself doesn't even know what the time is. He's reticent to look at his bright phone screen to find out. It's too early. Or late. Both.

Cal ignores the question. "Talk to me."

"Um," The first thing that pops into Matt's bleary head to talk about is the race; it's probably the very last thing Cal wants to talk about, so his mind stutters and then he stutters. "A-about, um, what?," He stalls, rubbing his forehead.

"About whatever, just talk to me. Please."

That little _please_ at the end, a bit quieter, a bit more desperate, knocks Matt's brain into gear. He sits up and pushes his hand through his hair. "Um...was good at Silverstone today. Cold, though. When isn't it cold at Silverstone though, eh?" He pauses and is rewarded with a brief hum of assent on the other end of the phone. "I got a sweet Mark Morrison reference in, I dunno if you remember him..."

"Tell me what you're gonna do to me next time we see each other."

That knocks Matt's brain right back out of gear again; such a sudden attempt at sharpening his focus only bewilders him. "I…" _What you're gonna do to me. Christ._ "W-well, you'd probably be not long off a flight, so I'd tell you to go have a shower."

Cal grunts and Matt's not able to tell if it's a positive noise or not, so he soldiers on. "Nice hot shower to relax the muscles, just have you stand under the water and empty your mind, yeah? Then I'd climb in with you and-and soap you up."

He's never been particularly good at dirty talk - too self-conscious, much too easily embarrassed - and he's even less good at it when he's been freshly yanked from a deep sleep. But he keeps going.

"I'd get the shower gel and rub it all over your chest and your arms 'til you relaxed. I get you to turn around and put your hands flat against the wall so I could rub gel all over your back, following all the muscles and rubbing at the knots."

"Yeah," Cal murmurs. There's the sound of some sort of movement on the other end of the line.

"I'd…" Matt hesitates and lowers his voice even though he's the only one in the room. "I'd put my arm around your waist and pull you back against me, so you'd feel me. Kiss you all across your shoulders." He's imagining the scene himself now, which helps. He's always loved Cal's stockiness, those broad, muscular shoulders...

"Yeah…" Cal says again, breathier, and that combined with the continued sounds of movement give Matt an idea of what's going on. Matt presses on with a little more urgency.

"I'd rub your scalp just at the back of your head 'til you were groaning and-and reach down for your cock. I'd wank you off a bit just to get you going." He hears Cal moan and feels himself blush, stomach swooping gently at the sounds he's generating. "I'd make sure you were properly braced against the wall while I soaped...myself up." His face gets a little warmer as he dances around the word; it's easier talking about someone else's cock than his own, apparently.

"S'good, sounds good," Cal murmurs and groans softly. "Go on."

Matt twists a finger in his bed sheets and stares at the space between his knees. "Um, yeah, I'd get you to spread your legs a bit and-and press against you, I wouldn't want to mess about any more because it's been too long, so I-I'd push into you--" he's interrupted by another groaned _yeah_ \-- "and it'd feel so good, _so good_ , I'd roll my hips and you'd push back because you always want it a bit harder, don't you…"

Cal is panting on the other end of the phone, grunting out curses and affirmations. Matt curls his toes as his heartbeat quickens. "I'd hang onto your hips and fuck you against that wall and you'd sound just like that - no, louder, because you need it and _I_ need it and you love getting fucked until you can't stand up--"

Matt trails off when he hears a strained grunt followed by a long moan, and he feels a brief rush of arousal in the pit of his stomach. Cal's laboured breathing fades into an aching quiet that Matt wavers a little too long against breaking. Then Cal speaks up. "I fucking miss you so much sometimes." 

Matt's mouth moves soundlessly as he feels his heart sink like a stone. He can't muster a reply before Cal talks again.

"M'sorry."

"Cal…"

Matt doesn't get to say anything else, because Cal hangs up. He takes the phone away from his ear and stares at the screen as Cal's picture disappears, the painful brightness suddenly not a concern. His whole chest hurts.

He doesn't get back to sleep.


End file.
